.................Wheat From The Chaff Poem by elysabeth faslund

A cold farmer sketched into
his fields before dawn...
stood gazing on his colors,
planted, left to their own.

Wheat from the chaff....
Always, ever.

Harvest, new ideas...
what's this?
Wheat for bread...
chaff tossed away...
not today...

Had not chaff hulled,
protected infant kernels...
Housed, used for shelter,
enfolded from storms...
chaff is rained upon...
not golden, ripe wheat...
combined, processed,
eaten by the world.

Wheat from the chaff...

Transient thing, wheat.
Unsung developer, chaff.

Let chaff be sung long...
wheat eaten by voraciousness,
in one day.